Bittersweet Symphony
by lilabut
Summary: Set after the break up scene in New Moon, Bella visits Jacob at night, afraid of losing him, trying everything to show him they have a future.


**Bittersweet Symphony**

He leaves her standing in the icy rain, leaves her with another crack in her shattered heart, runs off into the woods, leaving her in the dark, in the unknown and he knows guilt will tear her apart eventually, that she would blame herself.

So he just runs, trying to wrap his head around his own lie. Excuse. All he wants to do is wrap her up in his arms, kiss the tears and raindrops from her pale skin, warm her, and keep her safe.

But he can not do as he wants, bound to a more profound fate, his life out of his control.

He had wished he would have seen Bella with different eyes after his world had fallen apart, but when she is standing in front of him, shivering, crying, begging, she is the same Bella she has always been. Not any different. Just the girl he loves.

It was in this moment Jacob realizes he does not want to see her with different eyes. Even if that means he has to break her heart and send her away.

She is supposed to be his _Bells_, no one else. Without monsters or magic.

...

It does not stop raining that day, wetting the ground, turning everything into muddy and slippery earth, drumming against roofs and windows, while the ground of the forest remains so dry, the trees protecting everything beneath.

But there are no trees to protect Jacob from reality, from the pain of hurting the one person he loves as he rests on his bed, turning around and around and around in restless circles, waiting for the bubble to burst and the nightmare to stop. To wake up on a sunny morning with long hair and Bells to look forward to.

He was an optimist once – never a dreamer – but he sees no good in things now.

Like the flutter of a hummingbird, his eyes fall open and close, the darkness in the room providing no difference between light and dark, the melody of the rain a bittersweet symphony playing just for people like him. Poor, restless souls wandering through the night.

But then something other than large raindrops drum against his window, the sound like a trigger, and he sits up in his bed so quick a normal person would have felt dizzy, seen stars in front of black night sky. But nothing is normal anymore.

It feels much like a déja vu as he sees Bella standing outside his window, arms wrapped around herself – holding her together like glue when in a fair world, he would be the one holding her together – standing in the rain, hair clinging to her pale face, eyes red and puffy, tears invisible in the night.

He pulls her into his room, catching her as her foot gets stuck on the windowsill, forgetting about everything else, orders he must obey, loyalties he is supposed to keep.

His Bells is here in his arms, her small hands clinging to him, whispering about not wanting to lose him, and being willing to stop being afraid, of knowing how much she hurt him by keeping him away, always pushing him away from her, pleading for forgiveness, taking all the blame onto herself, small fingers running over his bare chest in utter despair, and before Jacob can tell her that she is not the one to blame, that he would never push her away for not being ready to take a step forward, her hands open the zipper of her coat, hastily pushing it of her shoulders and suddenly her bare, cold and damp chest is pressing tightly against his, nothing between them but skin and Bella's tears running over both of their shivering bodies.

Rushed whispers of _please_ and _don't leave me_ and _forgive me_ form a prayer of despair, cold breath fanning over his shoulders and Jacob does not know what to do, knows how it feels to have the weight of the world on his shoulder but this is different. This is Bella and she is in his arms begging him for forgiveness he can not give her because she did nothing wrong and this is all he ever wanted but not like this.

But his hands run down her naked back, fingers digging into every ridge of her spine, the softness and her whimpers, eyes closed, still waiting for the dream to end.

This is wrong, he should stop her and he knows it, she is doing this – running her hands over his abdomen, fingertips always _so_ close to the edge of his pants, her sighs and pleads burning themselves into his skin – for all the wrong reasons. He tries telling her, whispers that it is not her fault, that he has no choice, that he would never leave her because of this.

She does not stop though, no matter how deep into her soul he tries to breathe his apologies and failed explanations, and when she bluntly pushes her hand into his pants, cool fingers wrapping around him, he forgets why he needs to stop her.

It feels much like waking up as he pushes her onto his small bed, Bella's hand stroking him with much more force than he had imagined so very often. Jacob's hand fumbles with the button of her jeans, his head buried in the crook of her neck, inhaling the smell of her soft skin, the wetness of the rain, a hint of salt from the ocean.

He can not kiss her, no. This is about something else and he wants her to be ready for him to kiss her, knowing she is not in this moment, his hands stroking up and down her chest with no destination, just holding on to her as she is to him.

The night would tear them apart, that is for sure. But Jacob needs to know that there is a chance if he finds a way around this thing between them, his mouth now kissing along her jaw, her whimpers in his ear drowning the drumming of the cold rain.

When Bella's finger suddenly brushes over his head he groans, the sound muffled by the curtain of her damp hair, and he palms her breast so hard he is sure it can't feel good to her but she proves him the opposite, moaning his name like a chant in the darkness of his room.

She continues to circle her finger over his tip, the tremble that runs through his veins causing him to push her deeper into the mattress, his own fingers running over her nipples, feeling the shiver his touch causes, his mouth trailing over her neck and collarbone, seeking the place his hands are occupying. But that would mean her hand would slip away from touching him, and no will power could be strong enough for that.

Groaning her name, Jacob pushes his hand along her flat stomach, goose bumps leaving a trail towards her belly button, his thumb circling it, needing to hear her sigh his name against into his ear again.

She wraps her legs tightly around his waist, pinning him against her, and Jacob is suddenly reminded of the fear that is driving her, the fear of losing him. But she is quicker than his sane mind, her feet pushing down his sweatpants just enough, pushing him gently against her core.

He can feel her through the denim of her jeans, warm, needing him, his hips jerking forward, needing her to do something, anything.

She does not allow him to touch her - she's not ready, he knows, as she pushes his hand away before it can slip underneath her unbuttoned jeans, which she pushes down her thighs on her own, panties following quickly.

Pushing herself against him – warm, slick and everything he always wanted – she begs him to do _something_, to let her know what it would be like, to forgive her _just a little bit_. Her fingers are still wrapped around him, guiding him towards her slick folds. The second his tips brushes against them, his fingers dig deep into the skin of her hips, and he wishes she would take of her pants entirely. Everything is so cramped, so wrong, so not the way it was supposed to be.

She's bucking her hips against him, her hand still guiding him gently along her folds, driving him insane, whimpering, her back arched slightly.

Lifting his head, Jacob looks into her eyes for the first time since she had stumbled through his window, and he can feel his heart breaking with guilt as he sees the tears that run down her flushed cheeks.

He whispers her name, slowly lowering his head to brush away the tears with his lips, his nose nudging hers gently.

She begs again for just a little bit of forgiveness, and guides him lower until he can feel her slick opening. The feeling is too much, his arms threatening to give in and crush her with his weight.

He tries to tell her again that this is not her fault, that she did nothing to apologize for, but she just shakes her head, whispers word about _us _and _a future_, and suddenly he is inside her, barely hearing her pained moan as he groans against her skin, fingers holding her in place.

All he wants to do is undress her properly, kissing every inch of her soft skin, hear her sigh his name again, kiss her lips, let her open her heart to him once and for all, make love to her. But he can feel her tears trailing against his cheek, feels his knees – still covered by his pants – press again her jeans.

All he knows to do is kiss her cheek, her closed eyes, her ear, her neck, bury his nose in her hair, gently moving himself inside of her, feeling her tension start to ease as her arms wrap around his neck and she is whispering his name. Just for him.

_Bells_. No one else, still just her and him.

She is too tight, too warm and he wanted this for too long. Clutching her shoulder to pull her tightly against his chest – holding on to her, letting her know he is still there, somewhere – and thrusts into her one last time, muffling his groan in her hair because the last thing he wants is this moment to be disturbed by anyone. Faintly, he can hear Bella whimper as he empties himself into her, kissing her neck, feeling her pulse race as much as his.

All energy is gone as quickly as it had come and Jacob raises his head, trying to catch his breath. Bella smiles up at him, a bittersweet expression, tears still glistering in her eyes and against her red cheeks, but the smile is genuine. She whispers his name, her hand cupping his cheeks, and suddenly it all feels so right.

Their lips meet so lightly, merely a chaste brush of skin, so different from the moment they just shared. But as Bella sighs his name against his lips again, Jacob knows there has to be a way for them, that he will find a way to help her figure out what his lips are unable to tell her. There is not much he can do to guide her into the right direction, but in this moment, he can undress her slowly, kissing her thighs, her knees, her shin, her heels as he peels off every layer of clothe from her body, her shivers urging him on, reassuring him that fighting for this – for _them_ - is worth it.

Pushing off his sweatpants all the way, Jacob rests back on his bed, pulling Bella's naked body against his, her head resting against his chest. He whispers her name over and over again to drown out the rain, gently brushes loose strands of her damp her out of her face, promising her that everything would be alright and that there would be a way eventually.

That he loves her. And will wait for her to love him back.

Bella nods against his skin, her hands searching him in the dark, fingers intertwining, holding on as they both drift off to sleep, both waiting for the moment they wake up to a sunny day in their garage.


End file.
